Chapter 13 · she said

She rammed the assassin into the pillar and pinned his arm behind him. His mask cracked. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth.

"Talk," she said.

"Go to hell."

"I've been there. He owns property."

Cassian's presence brushed against her thoughts. "Ask about the mark."

Sylvia's grip tightened. "Why did you look at my wrist?"

The assassin went still.

There it was. Fear. Small, but real.

"What mark?" he said.

"The one that makes you look like you've seen a ghost."

"You don't know what you're carrying."

"Then explain it."

"Ask your king."

Cassian's voice dropped inside her head. "Kill him."

Sylvia pressed the assassin's face against the stone. "No."

"He knows something."

"Exactly."

"He will tell the others."

"Then we move before he can."

"You trust him to keep quiet?"

"I trust pain to improve his memory."

The assassin laughed again. "You sound like an inquisitor."

That hit harder than it should have. Sylvia's fingers locked around his wrist.

"Careful," she said.

"The empire called you its finest surgeon once. Now they call you a plague carrier. How long before they stop seeing a woman and start seeing a container?"

Cassian pushed against her mind. "Do not listen."